


From Across the Bar

by pennysparrow



Series: From Across the Bar [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Karaoke, Mild Language, Modern Era, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:17:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennysparrow/pseuds/pennysparrow
Summary: Sure they spend a bit too much of their free time in a bar. But it had great food, good atmosphere, discounts, and a staff that was pure free entertainment. Not to mention the perfect location and, again, the great food.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WritingToKeepMySanity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingToKeepMySanity/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Play Me A Memory](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217936) by [WritingToKeepMySanity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingToKeepMySanity/pseuds/WritingToKeepMySanity). 



> I saw [this post on tumblr](https://thelittleredheadedmusician.tumblr.com/post/182265190630/deboracabral-asked-for-cosette-grantaire-being) and sent it to Disney begging her to let the ABC be regulars at the bar in her Piano Man AU. She indulged this ridiculous request and then this subsequent fic after reading her latest chapter and gave me the seal of approval to write Les Amis in her Piano Man AU. So consider this Verified! You don't need to read [Play Me a Memory](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16217936/chapters/37907465) to enjoy this but I HIGHLY recommend. It's WAY more amusing that way. And Play Me a Memory is just FANTASTIC.

"Did you just see a kid run past?" Courf asked, pausing with a chicken wing halfway to his mouth.

Enjolras barely glanced up from his stack of paper to say, "No. The staff might not have managed to get to know us-"

"Despite us being regulars for like five years now," Grantaire muttered. Whether it was with annoyance or awe was anyone's guess.

"-but they know that Gavroche belongs to us and is still decidedly underage and Eponine refuses to allow him in here," Enjolras continued. "So no I did not see a kid run by because Gavroche isn't able to come in."

Courfeyrac frowned. "Yeah, no. Not what I meant or where I was going with this..."

"There is a little girl at the bar," Feuilly pointed out.

They all glanced over to where the manager, whose red hair matched her fiery personality, was leaning across the bar to talk to a little girl whose hair was impossibly two shades brighter and attempting to climb onto the bar stool. The bar's new pianist wandered over and said something, causing the kid to recoil and another of the bartenders, the one who only seemed to stop scowling when his boyfriend was around, to swoop in before she lost her balance and toppled off the stool. Another redhead, obviously the girl's father, showed up and took her from the bartender's arms.

"Anyone know what's up with the new guy?" Courf wondered aloud as they watched what could only be described as a tense and awkward conversation ensue.

"Name's Jack, his mom's the owner, somehow pissed off the entire staff plus their friends, second cousins, and pets with the exception of the manager who is admittedly less than pleased by his presence," R supplied. He had his head pillowed in his arms and the staff had already cut him off for the night but his voice carried clearly to the occupants of the cramped booth.

"How do you know that?" Enjolras asked. He had actually set down his pen to look at Grantaire, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Context clues?" Grantaire met Enjolras's stare with a matching one of his own, equally puzzled. "And I called him Billy Joel and he said 'Actually it's Jack Kelly.'"

"Huh." With that Enjolras went back to his papers. The booth fell into stunned silence, Grantaire included, when he didn't say anything more. R was gearing up to question Enjolras and rile him up in the process when it happened. The bar's door flung open and the man in the doorway announced "I'm here, I'm queer, an' I need a fuckin' drink."

"Fuck." Was all Grantaire said instead of his half formed rant.

Ferre removed a hand from his book to place it on Courfeyrac's shoulder, holding the other man in place. "No," he said without pausing his reading.

The excitement that had lit Courf's eye at the reappearance of his occasional drinking buddy and mischief maker dimmed.

"Gotta admit Courf, if I felt like being robbed tonight I'd just call Montparnasse. We are not calling him over and I am not losing my favorite hoodie in strip poker. Again." Grantaire said forcefully.

"Besides, any more strip poker results in immediate banishment from the bar, remember?" Combeferre gave Courf a rather forceful look.

None of them wanted the arduous task of finding a new place to hang out. The food here was phenomenal and they got discounts, the owner let them use it for meetings and parties, it was near all their apartments, Cosette would be pissed and no one wanted that, and the staff was an enigma that provided endless entertainment and truly fantastic discussions if you caught them or their friends when it was slow.

Courf gave a resigned sigh and Ferre finally removed his hand. A commotion at the bar made them all look over. The small group that seemed to have been huddled there had disappeared leaving a fellow regular (and one of the staff's weirdly tight friend group) behind and the bar empty. A few seconds later the grumpy bartender returned and struck up a conversation with the guy.

"I wonder what's going on," Courf said.

"They could be running a cock-fighting ring and I wouldn't care," Enjolras muttered. For the second time that night the group of friends fell silent at his words.

"Enjolras... did you mean to say that?" Ferre asked cautiously. Courf was shaking with silent laughter, R was blushing an increasingly deep red and slowly mouthing the words 'cock-fighting, he said cock. Fighting.' while Feuilly sent R a glare that clearly said 'NO.'

Again, Enjolras looked around at them in confusion. "This place has the best damn onion rings in the entire city and is exactly equidistant from my apartment and the university. I am not giving this bar up. I will die holding onto this bar if I must."

"Onion rings are quite the hill to die on," Feuilly said with blatant amusement, "especially considering you're willing to overlook your principles for them."

Enjolras met Feuilly's gaze evenly. "In some instances morals must be cast aside for the greater good. Freedom, Liberty, Equality, These Onion Rings."

Grantaire groaned. "I  _heard_ the capitalization."

Feuilly snorted as Enjolras smirked. Courf and Ferre were looking at the blonde with barely concealed horror. "You're cut off," Ferre said at the same time Courf pointed at the mug with the bar's logo sitting in front of Enjolras and said "The fuck is in that?" 

"Coffee." Enjolras shrugged and returned to whatever it was he'd been working on. "And redbull."

When Enjolras looked up again it was to see the four of his friends currently occupying their normal booth at the bar with him staring with unabashed horror.

"Why?" Ferre finally managed to get out.

"It's called a Racetrack Special. I get them all the time?"

"Not anymore ya don't!" Courf said, jumping to his feet and marching towards the bar where the manager had finally returned. He said something to her and they all watched as her eyes widened and she turned to look across the bar to where her coworker was currently making doe eyes at his boyfriend. "CONLON!" she yelled and flung the bar open to go berate him. Courf came back and shrugged. "Sorry Enj, I think they're taking it off the menu."

Enjolras shrugged. "So long as it's not the onion rings. If they ever do that I'll riot." 

Grantaire laughed. "For that cause? I'll actually join you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R isn't actually that drunk that they cut him off, he just looked like he could topple over from exhaustion at any second when he walked in and Kath and Spot made the executive decision that alcohol wouldn't improve that and so he's just half asleep on the table nursing a cup of coffee Kath had given him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going up before Disney's cause I got excited and couldn't wait and like this is only tangentially related to her chapter anyway. I mean, the last one was too but this is even more so.

Grantaire had been wedged solidly between Combeferre and Cosette tonight. Not that he minded, just that it was odd as Enjolras and Marius sat on their other side’s respectively and they had all silently agreed to try and keep R as far away from those two as possible to minimize inciting rants and blushes. Being a person away from the two people who he liked to tease most in the world (Marius because the poor guy was an easy target and looked downright adorable flustered and you can’t possibly blame R for that and Enjolras because… because… well there was a long list of reasons and most of them boiled down to the idealistic blonde deserved it or something like that, it’s not like anyone had ever actually asked R to explain himself) was going to make the night interesting but Grantaire endeavored to at least _try_ and behave. So, he pulled out his sketchbook and propped it against the worn wooden table edge.

He liked sketching but with work he’d been drawing digitally more and more. Not that he didn’t get it, easier to send and upload a file than it was to scan it in, and man was R glad he wasn’t working in the newspaper business around the time of Pulitzer and Hearst because he’s not exactly sure how he’d manage working for either of them for one and the ideas of engravings and printing presses were fascinating but sounded like a royal pain in the ass for another.

Sketching helped him relax though, especially sketching his friends. He had distinct memories from the times he’d tried to sketch St. Patrick’s Cathedral and some dick had come up to him and informed him that art was no way to make a living and he should go back to school and get a real job. Grantaire had taken great pleasure in waving his degree in art and the classics with a minor in philosophy and his position as a political cartoonist in the guy’s face.

R wasn’t one to get into an intellectual pissing contest with, he would win and he had way too much practice. In addition to providing endless ideas for new cartoons his friends also had a terrible tendency to get into not only intellectual pissing contests with people but academic pissing contests as well. (Which was an utter mistake as between them there were more degrees or nearly degrees than the average American could name presidents, which if Grantaire was being honest said more about the average American and the public-school system than it did about his friends but the point stands.) Grantaire had proved more than capable of holding his own with them as an undergrad in one of the philosophy lectures he shared with Enjolras – and wasn’t it a cruel twist of fate they had the same minor – when some kid went off about the June Rebellion of all things and no one in their right mind should know anything at all about a minor failed French revolution that didn’t even have a single beheading and yet Enjolras had completely schooled the kid on the importance of the barricades and how they led to the future successful July Rebellion later in history and the cultural importance while Grantaire, unable to keep his mouth shut, argued back that it was by definition a failure so why even argue over schematically merits at all. It had been quite the lecture. (Both are still more than a little stunned the other knew anything about the topic at all and any mentions of barricades have been carefully avoided in the years since though their friends don’t hold to that rule. Ever.) Which had quickly been learned by the dickwad during the cathedral debacle, but it was just easier to avoid future experiences.

Grantiare’s mind had wandered as he drew, coming back to himself when he heard a crash from the other end of the booth. With a practiced precision he lifted the sketchbook above his head and watched as everyone around him lifted their own books and papers off the table.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Bossuet called, a laugh coloring his voice. “I just got a little overexcited and knocked my glass over.”

“And onto the floor!” Jehan observed with a laugh of his own. Knowing that the beer had been spilled on the floor and wouldn’t risk damaging any of their materials caused everyone still holding paper-based items to return them to their places on the table.

The young waitress came over, broom and dustpan in one hand and mop in the other. With an ease that only came from familiarity with the task she swiped up the broken glass and mopped up the beer.

“I’m _really_ sorry,” Bossuet was saying to her. “You can just add it to my tab.”

The girl gave him a smirk. “Don’t we always?” she teased. “You had a pretty good streak going too, it’s a shame.” She nodded at the chalkboard behind the bar that read ‘It’s been 8 days since we broke a glass!’ as she turned to go. Grantaire watched with amusement once she returned to behind the bar where she erased the 8 and drew a careful 0, with a quick flick turning it into a smiley face. She winked back at them with a laugh before returning to work.

The new guy, the piano player, was sitting at the bar and openly staring at their little booth that was full to the bursting and crowded around with chairs pilfered from neighboring tables. R knew he’d get used to them, the rest of the staff had, but the novelty of their weird little friend group mustn’t have worn off yet. Something flashed across his expression before he turned back to talking to the bartender.

“He seems sad,” Cosette said. R raised an eyebrow at her. She nodded back towards the bar. “The new guy. He seems sad.”

R shrugged and then got a wicked idea. “Hey! Enjolras!” he called as he leaned across Combeferre to address the blonde.

Enjolras looked up from his papers, a bit of annoyance flickering across his features before he managed to smooth them into neutrality. “Yes Grantaire?”

“Can I steal a post-it? Just the one.” R gave him the most charming smile he had in his arsenal. Enjolras just raised a cool brow but wordlessly handed over a bright blue post-it. “Thanks!” R said happily.

“What’re you doing?” Ferre asked as R began writing in his messy scrawl on the square of bright paper.

“Making a song request.”

“What song?” Cosette asked with excitement, peering over his shoulder and into the circle his arms made as he wrote.

R grinned and let them see the post-it before hopping out of the booth (a carefully practiced maneuver that required some elbow and knee bumping, standing on the bench, walking along the back of the bench, exasperated looks from the staff, and a jump to the ground) and making a beeline to the piano. He slapped the sticky note onto the polished wood, right where the new guy, Jack, would be putting his music so he would see.

Grantaire returned to the booth and before he could make to get back to his seat (by climbing onto the back of the booth again via the chair Bahorel had recently vacated and then reversing the process of course) Cosette thrust two more sticky notes at him. These were yellow and green with Cosette’s looping cursive and Ferre’s cramped print respectively. He returned her grin and rushed back to the piano before Jack could notice. He was still sitting at the bar when R put Scenes from an Italian Restaurant and American Pie up next to Piano Man.

Grantaire weaved his way back to the booth in the far corner, a wide smile splitting his face as he gave Ferre and Cosette two thumbs up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm TERRIBLE and a chapter behind Disney on this AND it's short but this is really just fun and goofy for my and Disney's amusement and I'm amused so I hope you don't mind. The next one should be up tomorrow.

Cosette returned from making a run to the bar. She passed out the drinks before sliding into the booth next to Marius. Grantaire just lifted the beer she’d gotten him in thanks and she rolled her eyes. His friends might not exactly condone his drinking, but they’d figured out that if they got him the drinks then they could control how much he consumed. It was clever he’d admit.

Someone had grabbed the mic and Grantaire’s attention was pulled to where one of the other regulars was getting the bar’s attention by the piano. He was the dancer if R remember right, friends with the staff and dating the one and a menace to their wallets when he started a game of poker.

He was going on about the manager, the redhead who put up with way more nonsense from them than they tipped her for and they tipped well – Courfeyrac always made sure of it on top of everyone else’s contributions – and how they were dedicating the song to her. Grantaire had to admit that she certainly deserved it.

He grinned as the piano player, Jack, started playing Brown-Eyed Girl. The guy behind the mic started singing and his grin grew, he was pretty good.

R started humming along, swaying his head from side to side a bit and tapping his foot. He caught Cosette’s eye as across from him she was doing the same and had successfully gotten Marius to sway with her if a little stiffly. His lovestruck smile as he looked at her made up for it though.

Grantaire turned his attention to where Courfeyrac was sitting next to Marius and had eagerly joined in on the swaying, grinning from ear to ear. He’d started elbowing Enjolras who was highlighting away in a packet of printed out articles for his thesis. Their fearless leader just gave his best friend a dry look. Stunningly he then capped and set down the highlighter before joining in with a fond sigh.

On Grantaire’s left Bahorel slung an arm over his shoulder and started singing along to the sha-la-la-la’s which immediately prompted Jehan to do the same on his right. R laughed and gamely joined in, raising his eyebrows at Enjolras who seemed to be fighting a smile.

They were a small group tonight, with Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta having date night and Combeferre doing a late shift for his residency, Feuilly had to work late and decided to just go home after, and Eponine was at a thing for Gavroche’s school.

The song came to a close and they all whooped and clapped. It was well deserved.

The pianist picked up the clipboard that he’d set up for requests when he finally got tired of the sticky notes that Grantaire had taken great pleasure in plastering the piano in when he wasn’t looking. Though they still used the post-its for their requests – it was more fun that way and easier to have everyone write their own – R just stuck them to the request sheet.

Grantaire could see Jack shaking his head as he leaned to speak into the mic. "Okay, I get it, _Bohemian Rhapsody_ won an Oscar. Please stop requestin' so many Queen songs—”

Throwing his head back R let out a laugh. The sticky-note had no less than five different handwritings requesting five different songs. Including his favorite Radio Ga Ga and no one’s favorite I’m In Love with My Car. So they were fucking with the guy a little, no harm no foul.

While he’d been laughing Bahorel had immediately yelled back. “IT WON FOUR, ASSHOLE!”

“HERE HERE!” Courf seconded, raising his very pink and half-drunk Cosmopolitan.

“Freddie Mercury is a gay icon!” Enjolras called smugly and Grantaire could see he was half itching for a fight with that comment and oof somebody needed to make that guy take a break from his research. If R didn’t actually agree wholeheartedly with Enj for once he’d do it himself and indulge the argument.

Instead he decided to continue with ragging on Jack. “Yeah! We’ve got a whole list of Elton John ready too!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sooooooo meta. I blame Disney she gave me "The séance for Victor Hugo’s ghost was cancelled" full well knowing I like to pretend the fourth wall doesn't exist so you can go yell at her about it.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Jehan started one night. Everyone except Cosette and Eponine were present, the two girls both working, and he managed to get them all quiet and paying attention instantly. “I want to try hosting a séance.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Enjolras blinked in response.

Jehan beamed. “A séance. I’ve been reading up on them-”

“Where? Is it that history of the occult book I lent you?” Combeferre interrupted.

“You own a history of the occult book?” Enjolras turned his mild surprise onto Ferre now. Grantaire had to admit that he was greatly enjoying that look.

It was now mirrored by Ferre. “I own lots of books and a couple on what might be considered occult or magic or psychic or spiritual. I was a precocious child and had a very intense _Harry Potter_ phase.”

Courfeyrac looked confused. “That… doesn’t explain, like, anything.”

“I read literally anything having to do with magic for a while there,” Combeferre shrugged. Enjolras and Courfeyrac shared a look from across their best friend. Everyone else sat in stunned silence though Grantaire would admit his silence was amused.

“We’re circling back to this later,” Courf pointed at Combeferre before turning back to Jehan. “You were saying?”

“Right. So I got that deck of tarot cards the other month-”

“You’re very good with those! The readings you did that one time were very fun,” Joly said excitedly.

Grantaire didn’t believe in psychics or tarot cards or really much of anything but it had been fun watching Jehan shuffle the deck and pull out the cards and weave stories about their friends’ futures from them. He’d been secretly designing a deck for Jehan in his free time. Though he’d been spending more time researching than anything else.

Jehan had brightened. “Thank you! Yeah, so, I started reading more about them and using them to speak to the dead. Then I started just reading about seances in general and I kind of went down a bit of a rabbit hole-”

Grantaire couldn’t help himself. He snorted and said, “We’ve all been there.”

There were murmurs of assent and the blush that had started to creep into Jehan’s cheeks as he explained himself quickly disappeared.

“Right. So I’ve been reading up and I came to the conclusion that it might be fun to just try it.”

“Important question,” Courfeyrac raised his hand and jostled Combeferre in the process. As usual they were packed close into the booth but none of them really minded unless there was a spill. Though Bossuet had a pretty good streak on not breaking a glass going. For now. “So, where are we holding this séance because I don’t need my ass haunted.”

“How do you know you’re not already haunted?” Musichetta asked with a dry eyebrow raise.

Courfeyrac leaned over the table to smile at her, dripping charm. “Honey I already have a Marius; I’d notice if someone else was trailing around after me.”

Marius let out an indignant whine but Grantaire just laughed. He wasn’t the only one.

“Yeah, I’m not super anxious to let my apartment be used to try and talk to ghosts,” Feuilly winced.

“Oh c’mon! Where’s your sense of adventure!” Bahorel teased.

Feuilly responded with an unimpressed look. “Dude. You’re the only person who’ll see horror movies with me. We both know how that shit goes down.”

“Maybe the bar will let us have it here?” Combeferre suggested. Grantaire raised an eyebrow and checked the level of Ferre’s beer, nope not drunk.

“We have rented it out for weirder,” Marius shrugged.

Grantaire thought about it and yeah, they really had. There was the birthday party for Cosette’s ferrets, with no ferrets presents. The time they’d had a birthday party for William Shakespeare and had to speak in iambic pentameter all night which somehow only got easier as they got drunker. R’s personal favorite was the surprise party for Enjolras getting his driver’s license. He’d painted two different banners, one a congratulatory and the other a sympathetic depending on whether or not Enj had passed the test.

“Ok but more important question,” R found himself saying once everyone seemed to finish reminiscing on parties past, “who are we trying to conjure or contact or whatever?”

Jehan frowned a bit as he thought about. He finally shrugged and returned his attention to Grantaire. “I don’t know. Any suggestions?”

Grantaire couldn’t help himself. It was right there. His smile was uncontrollable. “Yeah actually, I do.” He paused, ensuring his friends were all listening. “Alexander Hamilton.”

Enjolras had taken a sip of his coffee and sputtered on it, coughing as Combeferre handed him a napkin in concern. “ _Why_?”

R’s smile grew and he leant back in his chair, sprawling casually. “Play _Hamilton_ for him, see what he thinks.”

Around him Grantiare’s friends burst out laughing except for Enjolras who just leveled an unimpressed gaze on him. R met it with a smirk.

“I don’t think they’re gonna go for that one,” Bossuet chuckled.

“Worth a _shot_ ,” R said smugly. There were groans and more laughs at that.

Jehan hummed once they all began to settle down again. “You might be on to something. Any historical figures anyone has any burning questions for?”

Grantaire’s mouth was moving faster than his brain, a terrible habit of his. “Wait I’ve got it.”

Enjolras gave him a long-suffering sigh while everyone else seemed to brace for another joke.

“No really!” R tried to say.

“Grantaire if this is another joke-” Enjolras started to grumble.

“No this is an actual idea. Might not be a good one but.” He shrugged and tried to make his expression as pleading as possible. Enjolras rolled his eyes but everyone stayed quiet. “Ok. Victor Hugo.”

There was a burst of sound as all his friends started talking at once. Questioning what the hell Grantaire might be thinking.

He raised his hands defensively. “Look, I just have so many questions. Just, _so_ many. Like the sewer system? Who the fuck has that much of an axe to grind with the sewer system?”

That was a mistake to say apparently because it started Feuilly and Enjolras in on a tag team lecture of the importance of a well-maintained sewer system for public health.

They finally petered out and when they did all eyes turned back to Jehan who was waiting quietly for the topic to come back to his proposed séance. “Are we going to try and summon Victor Hugo?”

“Well we might as well attempt it,” Combeferre said. “Unless anyone has any better ideas.”

“Oh no, we already know that we have probably the only two other people to ever feel as strongly about sewers, we’ve gotta,” Bahorel laughed, good-naturedly punching Feuilly in the arm.

“I-I don’t know guys,” Marius piped up. “Sewers kinda… I don’t know. Just, freak me out.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Joly asked excitedly and only Joly could get away with that.

“Not really?” Marius replied.

Everyone seemed to sense that this could spawn a whole other tangent and Courfeyrac thankfully tried to head it off. “Well Marius do you have a better suggestion?”

He shook his head. “Not really?”

“Then it’s settled,” Jehan said with finality. “I’ll go talk about getting the bar. Oh, this is going to be so fun!”

~

The week before the séance Grantaire came into the bar at his usual time which was earlier than his friends. He was surprised to find Jehan already there, frowning into a rum and coke.

“What’s wrong?” R asked, sliding into the booth next to him.

Jehan sighed heavily and wouldn’t lift his head to speak to R, just addressing his drink. “I had a weird dream last night and I did some googling on the symbolism and talked with some of the people in my department and well the general consensus seems to be that it’s a bad omen.”

“Oh c’mon, you love that book,” Grantaire tried to quip to cheer him up.

It worked a little as Jehan’s lips twitched up. “That’s not the title and we both know it, demon.”

“Whatever you say, angel,” R winked, hoping it’d get a reaction.

It did finally get a chuckle out of Jehan. “You know, six months ago that reference would’ve been incredibly niche, obscure, and gone unrecognized but now?”

“Well it’s what Sir Terry deserves.”

Jehan nodded forcefully. He raised his glass in a silent toast before taking a sip and going back to moping. “I’m cancelling the séance.”

Grantaire’s eyebrows pulled together as he joined Jehan in frowning. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know but I’ve got this terrible feeling that if we involve ourselves with Victor Hugo bad things are going to happen. Before you say it, I’d thought about just trying to contact someone else but maybe it’s just the séance in general is a bad idea. Feuilly had a point about horror movies.”

Grantaire didn’t like how dejected Jehan looked. He didn’t like having to cancel the séance either. Not that he actually thought it was going to work but at the very least it’d be fun and funny to see all his friends who were normally so confident spend a couple hours being jumpy and on edge.

“I’m sorry,” he said, slinging his arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“It’s fine. I think I’ll just buy a Ouija board. Did you know they sell them at Target?”

Grantaire threw his head back as he laughed, he did not but man was he unsurprised they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disney also made a Good Omens joke first but I'm really hyped about the show even though I still haven't seen it yet (AND HATE MYSELF FOR IT EVERY DAY I DON'T) and just couldn't help it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 80's theme karaoke night meant lots of "research" and I'm not mad about that.

Grantaire hadn’t intended to be propping up the bar come the end of the night but sometimes these things just happen. It was a weeknight and the bar was empty and his friends had left long ago. He could’ve left with them, but he didn’t want to make them responsible for his drunk ass again. Instead, he’d figured he’d try and dry out a bit first and so he was just practicing his charm on the manager.

She’d worked there for as long as they’d been coming. Longer. This was the only reason that he didn’t feel any shame for running his mouth off at her as she started cleaning up. She knew he was harmless and even indulged his purposefully awful pickup lines with laughter.

R had sobered up by the time she’d said last call, but he was in the middle of retelling the time that Courfeyrac renegotiated his freelance contracts with _The World_ and _The Herald_ _Legally Blonde_ style and she was highly invested in it. Which Grantaire thought was weird because it was a funny story but not really that funny.

The pianist, who up until a couple minutes ago had been helping R with keeping the bar level, finished playing a rather sarcastic rendition of Closing Time and returned to his post. “I don’t mean to interrupt but I’ve got a question for Kath,” he said as he returned to his stool.

Grantaire gestured that he didn’t mind at all and turned his attention to his water, trying to give them some illusion of privacy.

“Medda said you’d fill me in ‘bout karaoke night?”

“Oh! Yeah. We normally just set up a machine but since you’re around…”

“Yeah yeah, I get the gist.”

“We’re doing eighties night, so you’re prepared,” she smirked and Grantaire had to hide his smile at the face he made in reply. The surly bartender got her attention from the other end and she turned to Grantaire to say, “Be right back.”

He sat there quietly for a couple seconds before starting to feel increasingly awkward with the pianist, Jack he’d said his name was the other week, also just sitting there. As usual, Grantaire couldn’t help but end awkward silences the same way one would murder someone on a toilet. Brutally and with loads of embarrassment for both parties.

“So, looks like you’ll be playing some more Queen after all?”

Jack barked a laugh, nodding. “Gotta see ‘bout talkin’ Crutchie into dusting off his guitar. Gotta drum up a drummer.” He grinned at Grantaire and R matched his smile at the joke and at the fact that he’d just been talking about a drummer who’d jump at the chance.

~

Courfeyrac was practically bouncing the next night when he returned from talking to Jack. “He said yes! And I get free drinks for the night! Which is just an added bonus!”

Grantaire laughed, it was hard not to when Courf’s joy was practically infectious. Even Enjolras smiled. “That’s great, Courf.”

“What’s great?” Marius asked, looking up in a daze from where he was grading essays.

“Yours truly,” here Courfeyrac struck a pose, “is going to play drums for karaoke night. For _eighties_ karaoke night!” He did a victory dance and Grantaire let out a raucous whistle that drew the attention of the few other patrons scattered about. Though the staff just ignored the four boys eating dinner and causing a scene in the corner.

Marius gave Courfeyrac a fond smile. “I’ve known you long enough to know to ask this, so: what’re you wearing?”

Somehow, Courf’s excitement just grew.

~

Theme nights were _always_ a big deal and Grantaire had been planning his outfit since he’d overheard about it. It’d taken ages and about two dozen thrift shops, but he’d finally managed to track down a sweater vest that was a near exact match and a leather letterman that was an exact match. Eponine had even taken the hours – and liberal amounts of hair products – to straighten his hair before going to work. Now, R didn’t look anything like a young Matthew Broderick, but he did make a fairly passable Ferris Bueller.

Joly, Bossuet, Bahorel, and Feuilly had come as the Ghostbusters which prompted a resounding call of “Rip the séance!” as everyone downed their shot. Courfeyrac was just head to toe neon and R had to quip that he was glad he was wearing sunglasses when he saw him. Musichetta had come as Robin Sparkles and kept getting applauded for it every time she went to get another round. Jehan just wore what would be considered a normal outfit for him for the occasion. Courf and Cosette had persuaded Marius into a truly awful acid wash number that they’d apparently see Cosette matched when she came after work. It was Combeferre and Enjolras’s outfits that were simultaneously unsurprising and yet shocking. Ferre was in a stunningly accurate Han Solo costume while Enjolras was unmistakably Indiana Jones.

Something had to be done. Someone had to say it. By default Grantaire was the man for the job.

“That is _not_ era appropriate. And I’m honestly surprised that someone with such a rigorous moral code would approve of 1930’s archeological practices.”

Enjolras glared at him as he settled into the chair across from him. “ _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ was released in 1981. I had the costume from the Harrison Ford party Courfeyrac made us host senior year and all the Halloween’s since. I wasn’t contributing to the flawed fashion industry just for the sake of a few hours. And I can acknowledge and criticize the problematic elements of stories that I grew up loving and still enjoy. Besides, you don’t seem to be giving Combeferre the same third degree for being from a ‘long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.’”

“But _Star Wars_ is iconic-”

“And came out in 1977.”

“Yes, the first one. The rest of the trilogy came out in the eighties and is emblematic of the decade,” Grantaire finished smugly.

Enjolras huffed and fell silent as Courfeyrac fell on him and Ferre excitedly before rushing off towards where his drum set was set up by the piano.

After about an hour and a catalogue of some of the greatest hits of the 1980’s the small band took a break, announcing that they’d return in a bit for karaoke. Grantaire clapped Courfeyrac on the back, praising him, as they passed. R carried a small stack of sticky notes filled with more of the decade’s greatest and slapped them onto the signup sheet. He’d half turned away when he felt guilty and turned back, picking up the pen to copy them down onto the paper.

He realized that a line had started forming as he finished with the last post-it. He was going to move on when he was struck with sudden inspiration and scribbled “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” and “Enjolras” before handing off the pen.

Everyone was still applauding Courf who was grinning into his free drink when he got back. A glare sent his way from the manager kept him from climbing back into the booth, so he perched himself on the end and everyone else slid down to make room.

“Well Chetta, looks like you’re up first,” he said.

“Oooh! What’re you singing?” Courfeyrac asked.

Musichetta gave a brilliant smile and fluffed her already overlarge hair. “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” They laughed and whooped as Chetta grinned and primped, hamming it up before turning everyone’s attention back on him. “So what did you finally decide on R? Not going to Rick Roll us, are you?”

Flashing a wicked grin Grantaire winked roguishly before laughing and shaking his head. “Nah. That was too obvious. Radio Ga Ga. It’s my favorite.” He shrugged and Bahorel managed to lean over about three of their friends to slap him on the back.

Someone joked about how this was finally going to get the piano player to snap and murder R which descended into a long and twisting hypothetical about how exactly that might go down. Too soon Courfeyrac was extracting himself from their midst and heading back to his drums, Chetta on his heels to perform first.

After a short introduction Musichetta was handed the mic. “Before we start, I just want to say that I highly, _highly_ considered coming up here and doing Let’s Go to the Mall but I’m not quite drunk enough for that. So if you want the true Robin Sparkles experience you can send drinks to that table over there!”

Bossuet and Joly whooped uproariously, already yelling “That’s our girlfriend!” and she hadn’t even started singing. She blushed and turned to give a nod to the band. The boys quieted as she started singing, only to start up again once the song ended. Musichetta having nailed every note.

Bahorel went next, mostly yelling Eye of the Tiger with about ninety percent of the bar joining in. Bossuet, Joly, and Jehan did a choreographed routine to Walk Like an Egyptian that got loads of cheers. Bahorel was called up again with a “doing Abba’s Super Trouper! Uh, thought that was seventies?” Bahorel just gave a cheeky grin and said “1980 baby!”

Then it was Grantaire’s turn. He did a mediocre if enthusiastic performance and Courf cheered and clapped his sticks together as R headed back to the table. Cosette and Eponine had appeared during the middle of his song, both bringing some of their coworkers with them who had clumped near the bar to say hi to someone they knew. It was just in time too because she and Marius were called up to do (I’ve Had the) Time of My Life. It was cute if not exactly good, the pair giggling every time one of them would slip up.

Once the crowd quieted down after cheering for them, making Cosette beam and Marius blush, Jack picked up the clipboard to read the next performer. Grantaire braced himself, eyeing Enjolras from over his beer as Jack called out “And now we have Enjolras! Doing Everybody Wants to Rule the World!”

The blonde stiffened, his eyes widening in shock before narrowing into a glare that he turned on Grantaire.

“You didn’t,” he hissed.

R feigned innocence, sipping at his pint. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“Uh Enjolras? C’mon down!”

The man in question made no move to get up.

“C’mon Enj!” Courf could be heard calling across the bar. “En-jol-ras! En-jol-ras!” he started chanting and hitting the bass drum. Soon others where joining in, scattered here and there around the space. It wasn’t long before nearly everyone was calling for him.

The pressure, and likely Ferre muttering some sort of encouragement, finally got Enjolras to his feet and walking stiffly through the crowd. He frowned as he took the mic, obviously pulling the lyrics up on his phone. He sang and while it certainly didn’t hold a candle to the Lorde cover it was certainly passable. He blushed scarlet and pushed back towards the table as soon as it was done.

Grantaire was screaming and hollering with the rest of their friends when he returned. Enjolras flipped him off and sulked for the rest of the night but Grantaire thought it had been well worth it. Especially when Eponine texted him a video of the whole thing the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be goofy so I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
